Abhorrence-Begetteth-Purity
Middenman's finger was twitching on the trigger of his autopistol.
There were heretics to be killed, just beyond this door. Worse than
heretics – these Carrion boys were recidivist Cawdor, house
traitors who'd renounced the Holy Redemption for unspeakable idols.
The Middenmans' ambush was an act of righteous glory.
'They're just yonder, I
feels it,' yapped Abhorrence. 'When do we strike?'
'Be calm, lad,' said
Scourge-Thyself-For-Thine-Sins Middenman, clutching his longrifle
with reverend care. 'The purging fire's best bestowed with a cold
heart.'
Abhorrence bit his lip
and nodded at his elder's words. Scourge addressed the third of their
company, Repent-Lest-Thou-Be-Damned Middenman.
'Repent, I shall open
yon door. Once I've done so, scurry forth and fire upon the first
traitor thee sees.'
The ganger nodded with
a grimace. He'd just finished stuffing purgation shot down the barrel
of his pole-mounted blunderbuss. Scourge stepped to the door and
raised a grime-gloved hand to the access panel.
'Remember, brothers –
whatsoe'r haps next is the Emprah's will.'
He activated the panel.
The door hissed open.
Across the dome,
Blessed-Are-The-Abject Middenman, a juve newly initiated, clutched
his rusty stub gun with trembling hands, and his two ganger fellows
took note.
'Fret thee not,' said
Redeemed-Are-The-Abased , 'We'll blast these sinners down to the
sump.'
'Aye, or die trying!'
said Inexorable-Is-His-Judgement, brandishing his pistols. He winked
at the juve, which didn't have much of a reassuring effect given the
ganger's rictus-grin mask and missing eye.
This trio of Middenmans
were at another blast door. The space around them showed signs of
extensive scrap-stripping: what once must have been a network of
tunnels beneath the domefloor had had its ceiling torn away and was
exposed to the open space above. They'd had to creep stealthily to
avoid being spotted by the Carrion's snipers in a mid-dome tower.
'Are ye ready, then?'
said Redeemed, polearm-autogun in hand. His comrades nodded, and he
reached for the door control.
Meanwhile, the last of
the gang were in position on the far side of the dome, having worked
their way around to set a noose-like trap for the recidivists. Here,
Shriven-Are-The-Rancorous Middenman checked and re-checked his stub
pistol. The juve was determined to acquit himself well as he'd be
fighting alongside the underboss himself,
Unstinting-Is-His-Vengeance, and Torment-Eternal-For-The-Unworthy,
carrier of the holy flamer.
'Wait for it, my sons,
wait...' grinned Unstinting, 'When those filthy sinners are
distracted by our boys, we'll rush round yon corner and bring hell to
them...'
Shriven smiled and
nodded. Torment, ever serious,grimly lit the candle mounted on the
nozzle of his flamer.
Back across the dome,
Repent-Lest-Thou-Be-Damned did as he was told: leaping through the
open doorway, he aimed his blunderbuss at the only Carrion ganger in
sight, who lurked atop a bulkhead wall. The ganger screeched and
dropped, set ablaze.
Repent turned and
called his gangmates onwards. Scourge was stepping forwards when a
second door, leading to the dome centre, opened, revealing three more
Carrion fighters. One of them levelled his pole-mounted flamer at the
Middenmans and let rip with a torrent of flame that engulfed Repent
and Scourge. Abhorrence dived aside and somehow managed to avoid the
blast even as flames took hold of his brethren.
Hearing the commotion,
Unstinting gave the command: 'Forward, Torment! In the Emprah's
name!'
Torment-Eternal-For-The-Unworthy
rushed around the corner and into the tox-tainted open space at the
foot of the tower. He was behind the Carrion fighters who'd just
ambushed Scourge and his crew, and had a fine shot. He squeezed the
trigger of his flamer – the flameburst scorched the nearest Carrion
out of the fight, but the two nearest Repent were merely singed.
Torment heard an ullulating scream, a battle cry, and suddenly found
himself fending off blows from a Carrion who'd been lurking in the
shadows.
Unstinting, closely
followed by Shriven, was rushing to his ganger's aid. As he rounded
the corner, the underboss glanced around, his scrapper's eye taking
in the scene in a flash. The top of the tower was shrouded in murky,
ominous smoke, and Carrion boss Corvus had scuttled downdome, away
from the action. No matter. Redeemed and his boys would cut him off
and take him out. And there were more immediate matters to attend to.
Chainglaive roaring,
Unstinting-Is-His-Vengeance charged towards the Carrion assailing
Torment. The blade swung down and the teeth bit deep, taking the
cultist out of the fight.
Shriven-Are-The-Rancorous
looked on in awe at his leader's ferocity – blessed are the
reclaimed weapons of house Cawdor! Unstinting, his jag-toothed grin
broader than ever, turned to address the juve, but there was a sudden
chatter of gunfire from the smoky tower. Shriven's awe turned to
horror as Unstinting and Torment dropped to the deck, riddled with
auto rounds. He took a tentative step towards his downed elders, but
then clocked another Carrion on the steps below the tower. Perhaps it
was pragmatic threat response, perhaps it was blind fury –
Shriven-Are-The-Rancorous charged towards the Carrion fighter,
screaming for vengeance.
At the far end of the
central zone, beyond a massive, dark pit in the domefloor,
Redeemed-Are-The-Abased and his crew were advancing.
Inexorable-Is-His-Judgement squinted with his good eye, spotting
someone lurking behind a rusty barricade up ahead.
'By the Throne! That's
Corvus himself cowering there!' cried Inexorable, darting forwards.
Blessed-Are-The-Abject followed, ignoring Redeemed's warning to hold
back.
Inexorable got as close
as he dared – Corvus was as famed as Unstinting for his skill with
a chainglaive – and raised his stubber and autopistol. Perhaps he'd
have made the shots if he'd still had both his eyes, but the shells
rattled off the barricade.
Blessed's clumsy shot
fared similarly, and the three Middenmans paid the price as Corvus
stepped from behind the barricade, drew his hand flamer, and rained
fire them all.
Elsewhere, the fight
was going equally badly as the Middenmans' ambush turned into a
blazing rout. Abhorrence-Begetteth-Purity looked on aghast as
Repent-Lest-Thou-Be-Damned staggered to his feet, still smouldering,
only to be cut down by swarming Carrion gangers.
Abhorrence at last got
to exercise his trigger finger, but in his desperation missed wildly
and hit the still-burning Scourge-Thyself-For-Thine-Sins with a shot
that popped the veteran's kneecap open.
The Carrion cawed and
hollered, breaking into a wild jig as they savoured the prospect of
victory.
Even a Cawdor juve
knows when to run. Abhorrence and Shriven did what they could to
smother the flames and drag their comrades out of the dome. It was
too late for Torment and Repent, who would bleed out before they
could reach a doc.
Still, Corvus seemed
content to let his rivals go, having done enough to appease his dark
god. 'Run, corpse worshippers! Run and tell your fellows how the
Carrion cut up! Our mistress is no stranger to waiting, and we'll
dance on your entrails yet!'
The fires burned bright
and bloody that shift, even as the shadows of Foulnest turned ever
darker and colder.